In the years that I worked as a legal secretary and as a civil process server for a private investigations firm, it easily goes without say that I experienced many strange and funny things.
One of my fondest memories that still makes me laugh hysterically at the mere mention of it is the case that involved a couple that had been married for many years yet the husband had recently taken on a mistress.
Of course, once his wife learned of this relationship, she filed for divorce. Soon after filing, I received the call from the attorney’s office that they needed this guy served ASAP. The best place to do was at his place of employment.
So, papers in hand, out I go to his place of employment and the receptionist, after learning the reason for my visit, immediately calls him to the front. What comes walking into the lobby simply makes me want to laugh when I picture this “stud” with his mistress. Although he worked in a manufacturing plant, he walked into the lobby with his shirt unbuttoned half way down his chest. He donned large gold chains around his neck along with thick, flashy man rings on his fingers. In my opinion, he needed to only be wearing polyester to complete this retro fashion disaster.
I’ll admit, he took service like a man. Politely thanked me, turned and strutted back to his work station.
As the divorce progressed, it didn’t take long for the wife to learn more details about the mistress. Needless to say, that led to my being summoned to the attorney’s office for the purposes of picking up a subpoena that required the mistress to appear at the upcoming final hearing.
So out I go in search of the mistress. With a grim reminder in my head of the man I had nicknamed Studly (the man I had serviced with the divorce complaint), I could only envision what was on the receiving end of this subpoena.
Unfortunately, the wife hadn’t done a great job of gathering the goods on her husband’s lover as the address listed on the subpoena turned out not to be the mistress I was looking for. On the fortunate side, however, the person who had answered the door at the wrong address knew the lady I was looking for and provided me with detailed directions to her home.
And this is where the story takes a very hilarious turn….
Now, keep in mind, that process servers are a lot like bounty hunters. You go to great lengths to get the job done that police and sheriff’s departments make only half-assed attempts at.
As I pull into the driveway of what has now been confirmed to be the mistress’ home, I see the vehicle that, by now, I know belongs to her.
Exiting my vehicle, I discreetly slide the subpoena into my pocket and walk to the door; one of those doors that offers two slim, ceiling to floor windows on each side of a large entryway door. Just stepping up to the door, I can see someone is home because the television is on, all the lights in the living room and adjoining kitchen are on, and there is a small dog running in circles inside, barking insanely.
Not to mention, the place just “felt” like someone was home. After you’ve worked as a process server for a while, you acquire this unique sixth sense.
So I ring the doorbell once, pause, knock on the door twice. No response. I repeat the same sequence again. Wait. No response.
Being the good process server that I was, I began to observe not only the inside of home that I can see but the outside. And I know someone is home.
After taking a good assessment of the things outdoors, I use each of the door’s side windows to see if I can spot movement or shadows of someone who may be avoiding service.
As I look through the right window, I’m slightly bent and looking as far into the home as this window will allow. I see nothing. So I make my way over to the left window. Looking at a 90 degree angle, I see nothing so I change my position to create a somewhat small panoramic view. As I make this turn…up pops one of the largest, angry faces I have ever seen.
Within seconds the door flings open to reveal this very large lady, aka the mistress. With her hands on her large hips and in a very loud, angry tone she spouts off “Do you always make it a habit of looking in people’s windows?” To which I calmly reply, “As a matter of fact, I do.”
As she attempts to out tempo me with her angry lecturing about being a “peeping tom,” I read the subpoena to her and pass it her direction; which she angrily snatches from my hand.
My job done, I begin walking back to my car. She, at that time, exits her home, clad in a very large bathrobe, unsuccessfully trying to intimidate me with threats of arrest. (Hey lady, you’ve already been served, what’s the point?!)
Although I’m laughing hysterically to myself as I pull away, I was, at the same time, relieved that things didn’t get any worse. I can handle scream-hurled words, but weapons would be a different story.
So I make my way to the office, ready to contact the attorney’s office to relate the crazy story and, at the same time, confirm that service was complete. But when I checked the office machine, I found that two messages had already been left for me. The attorney’s secretary had said I needed to call immediately and I could hear a hint of laughter in her voice.
“Oh great, what now?” I thought. So I call the office. It’s then that I learn that the District Attorney’s office had contacted them in regards a phone call they had received from “the mistress.” The ADA that spoke with the attorney’s secretary laughingly told her that the mistress had called and insisted that the process server be arrested for being a peeping tom. The ADA continued on to say that, as he explained to the mistress, technically, there were no laws against being a peeping tom and, if even if there was, I essentially had a license from the state that permitted me to peep as needed.
Needless to say, the mistress was extremely upset that the subpoena would stand, that the wife’s attorney would force her to testify about her affair with Studly, and the process server would not be arrested, much less spend a single minute in a jail cell for doing nothing more than her job.
